


In the Dark

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 05:45:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10551072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: Silly semi casefile fic written for several reasons. For @leiascully’s XFWritingChallenge: Exercise and also for an anon prompt on Tumblr who asked for a story about Scully being given an undercover assignment as another agent’s wife.





	

The phone skittered across the desk, mocking him with its caller ID and perkiness. He’d fallen asleep in the office and his neck was gristled, his mouth filled with dry Bureau air.

“Mulder, it’s me.”

Well, yeah. That’s what the phone said.

“Mulder, are you there?”

“I’m here, Scully. Or should I say Mrs Sparks?”

“That’s Ms Sparks. And you sound like you still haven’t gotten over this assignment, Mulder. It’s been two days and you’re a grown man. You need to get over it.”

It’s been more than six years and he wasn’t over it, grown man or not.

“What’s the plan today, Scully?” He forced a little grace into his voice.

“You know I can’t tell you that, Mulder. I’m undercover,” her voice was buried in a rush of static and muffled voices. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call later.”

And I’ll still be here. I’ll still be thinking about the smug look Skinner had in his eye when he informed them that Scully had been assigned to this case, going undercover as Danny fucking Conway’s wife, to lure out a serial killer who was ramping up in the DC area. And so close to the Arcadia case. What the hell was that man on? And why the hell did Scully agree to this bullshit? Hadn’t she had enough of being targeted by freaks? She’d given him the usual line about being independent and doing her job blah blah. Their job was the X-Files, but the last time he’d tried to deliver a message along those lines, she’d gone and fucked that psycho in Philly and blamed the lack of a desk.

Soft, green light billowed out of his fish tank. It was supposed to be calming. That’s why he’d chosen tropicals. Their colour, their shapes, their fluid movements, the warmth of their lives…yet, all he wanted to do was rip the fucking thing off the shelf and stab the little beasts with a pencil. The phone had remained unreasonably quiet. It wasn’t even arguing back when he slammed it down on his coffee table. He stretched his arms up and relished the clunk of his joints. Pain. Fatigue. Being in the fucking dark. Yes. Welcome to the life of Fox Mulder.

The buzzing of his cell woke him. Where had he thrown it? He scrambled around the couch, sticking his fingers between the cushions and down the back. He found nothing but crumbs and a tack that stuck behind his thumbnail. He cursed and sucked at the blood. Metal and dust. And the phone stopped ringing.

He was outside the house now, hunkered down in the driver’s seat, watching how the climbing rose curled and bowed around the door, mocking him with its elegance. He did not belong here. Not just because Scully would kill him, but because people like Mulder didn’t belong in this suburb.

Danny fucking Conway with his blond hair and frat boy good looks belonged here. Dana Scully with her contained beauty and ferocious intelligence belonged here. She really should live somewhere like this. All the things she personified were displayed in this building – success, style, class, refinement. She should never leave. She should be Ms Sparks, co-creator of GymProMatch, a site for high-end professionals wanting to find an exercise partner. However you span it, Mulder believed it was really a dating site for those who got off on watching women in exercise gear with sweaty cleavage and enough money to opt for surgical intervention should the running machine or the date become surplus to requirements.

GymProMatch also offered tailored personal training programs, online functionality so even less desirables, like Mulder, could get fit in the comfort of their glowing-green living room and be linked with other sad cases, diet plans, seminars and conferences with training professionals. The real people behind it had flown to their Caribbean chalet while Scully and Fucking Conway moved in.

He shifted in the seat, his knees groaned at the confined space. He picked at the skin on the side of his thumb. He let his head fall against the seat rest and tried to keep his eyes open. The door opened. Scully stepped out, her hair caught in a high ponytail and white headphone wires forming a necklace around her bright pink fitted vest. She wore black yoga pants with a pink swirl around the calves, and bright white runners. She limbered up, stretching her quads and dipping her head side to side. She looked fucking gorgeous, backlit by the light above the door. She jogged up the paved path, edged by topiary bushes, and out on to the sidewalk. Mulder watched the back of her disappear into the murky evening before he opened his door to track her.

He didn’t even get to the end of the car before she’d doubled back and was running at a pace towards him. She looked fucking angry.

He slunk into the car and she slipped in next to him, huffing out more than just energized breaths. There was fire in those exhalations.

“I’m sorry, Scully. I needed to know you were okay.”

“You’ve just jeopardized this whole operation, Mulder. And all because you don’t trust me to do my job.”

“I do trust you, Scully. It’s Conway I don’t trust. He’s an asshole.”

“That may be true, Mulder, but he’s a professional asshole. Unlike you, who at this moment, just look like a pathetic, jealous, ridiculous asshole.”

Now they were getting somewhere. He deserved that. It made him feel better. He always appreciated the truth. Scully always told him the truth.

“You can finish your run, Scully. I don’t mind waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” Her voice thinned as her anger level rose. She was flushed anyway, but her chest heaved and her arms were tense and those veins near her wrists were pulsing and she kept licking her lips in that way that both irritated him and turned him on. He could practically smell the smoke coming off her, she was red-hot furious.

It was now or never. He leant forward and captured her face in his hands, pulling her mouth to his. She was spitting out some curse or another but he swallowed it whole and savoured the taste of her. Her arms were trapped between them but he could feel her shifting against him, her fists bunching, ready to pummel him. He groaned into her mouth, pushed his tongue into the velvet of her, rubbed it against her teeth, let his hands move from under her ears, down her neck and to gently massage her shoulders. She was still fighting but she had opened her mouth wider and if he wasn’t mistaken, she was whimpering. He pulled back.

She ran her tongue over the lower lip, looked down at her lap, then up at him. He steadied himself for the slap or the punch, but she just turned to open the door.

“Wait, Scully. Please.”

“I have to go, Mulder.” There was no intonation, no anger, no life in her words.

He reached out to shut the door. His arm brushed her breasts and she sucked in a breath, pushing herself back into the chair.

“Sorry. But I’m not generally in the habit of kissing you, Scully. There is a reason. And right now, that reason is approaching from the end of the street. Our suspect has been prowling around in the yard of the empty property at 190 for about an hour. Conway has called in back up. I’m wired up. You just need to keep kissing me. Come here.”

He snaked his arm around her and kissed her again. She softened into his arms and he reluctantly released her mouth to whisper into her ear.

“Skinner didn’t want you to know about my part in the assignment. He knew you would back out if I was any part of this job. This psycho loves himself a cheating red-head but he really gets off on torturing the boyfriend. Meet the boyfriend, Scully.” He nibbled her neck and she shuddered. She definitely shuddered.

“This is so fucked-up, Mulder,” her voice had dropped a notch and she was breathing heavily. Mulder let his fingers wander up and down her back as he listened for instructions from the team.

“Suspect is nearly at target point. Keep doing that, Scully.”

“Doing what?”

“That thing you’re doing with your…”

“Mulder!”

She pulled back and all hell broke loose. The passenger door pulled open, a hand reached around her and covered her mouth with duct tape. At the same time, the suspect lashed out at Mulder with a baseball bat but he managed to avoid most of the swing, so that it hit the steering wheel and let the horn sound. A dozen agents swamped the car, heaving Scully from the suspect’s grasp and pulling Mulder out. The suspect was grappled to the ground and Conway snapped on the handcuffs.

“Darling. I’m so glad you’re okay,” he smirked up at Scully.

Mulder rushed to her side. “Are you sure you want me to pull the tape off, Conway? I’m not sure you’re ready to hear what Scully has to say to you.”

She huffed out something unintelligible and he gently prised the tape off. Her mouth was red and puffy. He liked to think it wasn’t all because of the tape. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and turned away.

“You were good today, Scully.”

“At what? At being kept in the dark? At being manhandled by you and the suspect?”

Skinner swept forward, his hands buried in his overcoat. “Agents. This was a fine result. Good work.” Scully glared at him and then back at Mulder. “I understand you might have some further questions about this case, Agent Scully. Report to me in the morning. I’ll debrief you both.”

The phone skittered across his couch, mocking him with its caller ID and perkiness. The green glow seemed brighter somehow.

“Mulder, it’s me.”

Well, yeah. That’s what the phone said.

“Mulder, are you there?”

“I’m here, Scully. You sound out of breath. Are you all right?”

“I’ve been running.”

“I hear exercise is a good for reducing stress and tension.”

“Will your next undercover assignment be as a medical doctor, Mulder? Or perhaps I won’t know until after you’ve performed an emergency tracheotomy or diagnosed someone with diabetes.”

“Touche, Scully. And again, I am sorry. But it wasn’t my decision.”

“Mulder, open your door.”

“You’re outside?”

“Yes, I ran from my car because it’s raining. I’m wet and grumpy so please, open the door.”

She was dripping, red with cold and looked fucking gorgeous. He pulled her in, pushed her to the bathroom and told her to take a shower. When she emerged, she was red less dripping, pink with heat and still looked fucking gorgeous. She took the cup of tea he’d made and sat on his couch.

“Would it be inappropriate to say that I really enjoyed kissing you, Scully. Even if you were technically married to someone else. And you weren’t technically aware that I was going to do it?”

“Do you always make a habit of kissing married women, Mulder?”

“Only the red-haired, doctor ones.” He tried for a cute smile.

She blushed and sipped her tea.

“That thing you did with your…”

“Mulder!”


End file.
